No God Beyond these Clouds
by Mah-Blackberreh
Summary: Riddled with self-loathing and guilt, Pitch Black disappeared. In the aftermath of the Decade War, Jack pushes himself to find him, all the while suffering from a strange, haunting dream. Post-Apocalypse AU, BlackIce
1. The Carnivale of Insaniam

**_Summary: _**Riddled with self-loathing and guilt, Pitch Black disappeared. In the aftermath of the Decade War, Jack pushes himself to find him, all the while suffering from a strange, haunting dream.

Spiders spin webs and spirits tremble under the ever-watchful eyes of the Gods - peace is but an illusion, and there are those amongst the shadow folk that would see the remainder of humanity destroyed.

The Carnivale has come to town, and with it, a chance of redemption.

**_AN: _**Whelp guys, this work has been on the drawing board for a while now and the first chapter is finally being posted! I hope that this is well received!

**Chapter song: **Storytime - Nightwish

* * *

_The moon…_

Everything was bathed in white. Blue on black eyes slowly rose to the sky, silvery eyelashes fluttered open, squinting against the brightness.

_This warmth…_

A pink tongue darted out to lick pale lips. Eyes widened against the glare, and a slow, dark rage bubbled up inside of him.

_It's too hot._

Blue tinted lips pulled into a snarl, baring white teeth to the glowing satellite in the sky. With the sound of sharp cracks and rattles, Jack raised his arms to the sky and spread his fingers wide, as if to grasp the moon. Ice spread across his limbs, but he ignored it; all of his attention remained on the moon, and the more he stared at it, the more his rage grew.

_Tear it down._

He licked his lips again, tasting the moonlight on his skin. His fingers became claws and he wanted, _oh how he wanted_ _to…_

_Tear it all down._

"Jack."

He froze. His arms fell limp. His head snapped to the side, taking in the blackness that encompassed his field of vision. It took a few seconds to distinguish the dark figure apart from the black.

"What have you done, Jack?"

Jack's head tilted in curiosity. Pitch Black stood before him, face blank and golden eyes glowing. There was a part of him that struggled with something – something about the creature before him, something he was meant to do – but he dismissed it.

It was another obstacle in his way, nothing more.

"What have you done, Jack?" Pitch asked again. There was an inflection in his voice that the spirit could not recognise, and Jack frowned in confusion.

_What… something… I'm meant to do something. Or… I've done something… have I done something?_

Jack shook his head, and the bogeyman looked past him, golden eyes intense, and Jack briefly wondered what he was looking at. There was nothing but a white wasteland bathed in moonlight –

He turned.

Cold. Ice. Death.

A broken city lay out before him. The husks of buildings and cars, and empty streets littered with snow and debris.

The rage within him calmed, and a new feeling took its place – something strangely foreign. It spread through every bone, nerve and muscle, and his lips twitched. A smile spread across his face, sharp and feral with no hint of humanity, and he whirled back around to face Pitch. A laugh bubbled in his chest and escaped through his mouth – loud and boisterous. Arms spread wide again, the ice crackled and spread all around him.

_More._

"Pitch…" The whisper seemed too loud in the vast space between them.

_Still too hot._

Pitch didn't move. His lips were turned down into a frown and his eyes…

They were sad.

The anger appeared so abruptly that is almost caused Jack to tremble. He growled, and an ominous, freezing pressure encompassed him.

_You have no right to judge me._

He couldn't breathe.

_You have no right to judge me!_

Pitch reached out a hand.

_DON'T TOUCH ME!_

**-oOo-**

When Jack's eyes opened, it was to see the ground rushing up to meet him. His gasp was muffled by the mouthful of snow that he very nearly swallowed in his panic to wake up properly. He groaned, and didn't bother moving for a few moments. The chill seeped into his skin, chasing away the phantom remnants of an impossible heat.

_A nightmare huh? _ A bitter smile twisted the spirit's lips. _And Pitch was in it too._ _That's gotta be a good sign then_.

He calmed slowly, and after a few moments, he stood up from the snow drift. The hook of his staff still hung from the branch he had been sleeping on, and with a sigh, he leapt back on top of it and picked it up. There was no moonlight illuminating his surroundings, but his keen eyes could easily pick out the patterns of frost that swirled across the bark where his fingers had brushed against the branch – proof of his agitation. He was glad that the sky was overcast - truthfully, Jack didn't know how he would have felt if he'd seen the moon after a dream like that.

He didn't want to dwell on the nightmare. It's not the first time he's had something like it, but the previous ones weren't as clear and… terrifying.

_I have to be close then._

Bracing himself, Jack leapt off the branch and let the wind catch and carry him into the sky, giving him a clear view of the forest and the barren, snowy wasteland further beyond. It was still a few hours til dawn, but Jack gathered that he could get a head start. He had a single destination in mind.

**No God Beyond these Clouds**

1

The Carnivale of Insaniam

Jack didn't bother to stop and adjust the straps that dug into his skin. It was too risky – there were still many pockets of radiation on this area, so Jack merely concentrated on getting out of there as fast as possible.

Still, the air filtered by the gas-mask tasted wrong. It always tasted wrong.

The sun was finally peaking over the horizon when he came to a halt. Snow crunched beneath his boots, and not for the first time he longed to feel it beneath his feet without a barrier. But it wasn't safe – he was still in a hazard zone, and to allow his skin contact with the snow in this area would be bringing him in contact with the radiation, and frankly, Jack had had enough of it. He could easily summon up fresh snow to cover all of the old, but within minutes it would have soaked up radiation as well.

Jack had tried it in the past, several times, in the hopes that it would somehow bury it and hide it all away. But it was useless.

He could do nothing.

The Guardian shook away his depressing thoughts. It shouldn't be much farther till the end of this hazard zone, and the sooner he got out of it the better. He had learnt the hard way – as well as many other beings – that radiation does strange things to spirits, and there may easily be something twisted lurking in the shadows.

He was close to the cliffs edge right now. If he reached it within a few minutes then maybe…

Jack grinned. Watching the sun rise was about one of the only fun things left to do in the world.

The wasteland before him was died crimson by the time he reached the edge. Jack crouched down and pulled off the mask, breathing in the clearer air. This area was one of the largest radiation pockets in the US, and normally Jack would have gone around it – but despite the risk, it made the journey quicker and easier, cutting time down by at least a day.

The group he was tracking moved fast – impossibly so.

_They are a group of magical folk though. From what Tooth told me it's mostly fae, but there are other creatures as well. Dangerous._

With a whoop, Jack took a running jump off the cliff and freefell. The wind whirled around him, tugging at his limbs and clothes, but Jack didn't allow himself to be caught. Not yet.

The ground was coming up to meet him quickly, and just before it was too late, his body snapped to a halt. He could feel an exasperated amusement that he was pretty sure came from the wind – something he'd been able to feel since his 'beginning', and Jack gave an apologetic grin.

He was dropped the remainder of the way in response, and just like that previous night, he met the ground face-first and got a mouthful of snow as a response.

It was clean, thankfully.

Laughing, the spirit got to his feet and continued on his was. The field of snow spread vast before him, and as far as he could tell there were no toxic pockets.

_I must have been at the edge of the pocket, _he realised. _Then that means I _am_ close._

A joy that Jack had not felt in months welled within his chest.

_Finally!_

**-oOo-**

The ruins of the once great city Los Angeles were still quite grand.

And spooky.

Jack perched atop one of the many empty shells that were once buildings – A lot were still standing, and it was clear that many humans had taken up refuge in them. LA was one of the first cities destroyed and also one of the first to be cleaned up – the 'clean-up' crews, as they had come to be called, had started with the first places hit, and as a result the bigger human cities were salvaged.

The Fae were very handy when it came to clean-up. Some of them could soak radiation up like a sponge without being infected by it.

He eyed the set-out below him, calculating the best way to approach it.

There were no guards from what he could tell. Which was stupid considering they were very likelyon quite a few powerful beings wanted list. There were those creatures out there that would rather see the human's wiped out than saved - if they were that lax about security, then...

He grinned.

_May as well try it then_.

The wind carried him smoothly to the ground, and without the slightest regard to secrecy, he strode towards the mass of tents. There were lots of people out and about – well, '_people' _was a loose term – setting up for the coming shows, and Jack reasoned that he could easily get lost in the crowd. He didn't stand out – compared to some of the creatures he could see, others probably wouldn't send him a second glance. There was a group of satyrs and fauns mingling around a stall, a pair of wood elves chatting serenely, and he was pretty sure he even saw a centaur helping a bunch of forest nymphs string up decorations.

The ambient magic in the air had his nerves tingling pleasantly, and it chased away the sickening feeling the radiation had instilled. He could really let loose here, he realised, and no-one would think him odd. It felt different to Tooth's palace and North's workshop – hell, even Bunny's Warren, which was nearly bursting with earth magic.

The magic in the air was a mix of just about everything – earth, air and other elemental magics, a huge dose of healing and even a hint of death.

_But no fear…_

Jack didn't allow himself to feel any disappointment. He knew that if Pitch were here, he'd keep his presence hidden. Years and years ago, he wouldn't have thought so, but now he knew better.

If you wanted to get by without being hassled, bombarding everyone around you with sensations of fear was not going to work. Jack had always thought that Pitch wanted to be noticed above anything else. Hell, it was why he pulled that stunt that caused Jack to become a Guardian, and after the spirit had time to think about it, he didn't blame the Bogeyman at all.

Being forgotten and unacknowledged sucked.

He idly swung his staff as he walked, slowly taking everything in and making sure to stay out of everyone's way. They were working quickly with the set-up, and from what Tooth had told Jack, the show would open at dusk. Then it would be crowded with the humans and magical folk from this area, and the fun would really begin.

But Jack wasn't here for the fun.

He was looking for Pitch Black, and by the gods he was going to find him. He's been looking for so long now that he was starting to lose hope, but the fact that he'd finally found this place… It made his heart beat faster in excitement.

The Carnivale of Insaniam.

Jack wasn't sure when they had first appeared; it had to have been some time after the war. When the world 'ended', it was with an explosion that spread across the entire world – Jack knew that humans had often thought about their own demise, yet it still came as a shock that their end came by their very own design – a nuclear apocalypse that sent the world spiralling into desolation, and it lasted for ten long years.

Many people died. Countries were destroyed and governments fell, the land was decimated, and in its wake spread a nuclear winter.

Then the magical folk stepped in, and all fighting drew to a halt. It was good timing too, otherwise the human race was as good as extinct.

With the world half dead and the majority of the human population wiped out, the Carnivale appeared, and with it came the hopes and dreams of all those affected.

They were a mystery. They came and went by their own leave. One moment, they would be in one place, and the next, appearing on the other side of the world. They put on performances and traded much needed supplies with those who came to watch; and then, if need be, they disposed of any threat the humans in their general area were facing. They did more than the Guardians could at least.

When Jack had first heard of them they sounded too good to be true. He and the other guardians had been distraught about the Decade War, unable to interfere in a conflict that was solely amongst the humans. There was little they could do but continue the way they had been before the conflict started. Only things got progressively worse, and before they knew it, the magical folk stepped in, the war was over, and humanity needed to regain their foothold in the world.

They could only do so much. Easter and Christmas only happened once a year, and there was only so much good memories could do, so Tooth was at a loss too. Sandy was almost always exhausted – battling good dreams against the nightmares created by a person's inner self – they were almost worse than those that Pitch had fuelled by himself; and with the entire world experiencing them, Sandy had his work cut out for him.

Jack had thought Pitch would have been revelling in the destruction and chaos. Fear was rampart across the entire earth, so surely he should have at least had some influence in it all?

_No. Not even a stray Nightmare._

Pitch had disappeared not long after his defeat. Jack knew this because – out of sheer boredom – the spirit had visited the defeated Nightmare King's lair barely a year later, only to find it abandoned. Jack had panicked and ran straight to North, who summoned the other Guardians, and together they searched for Pitch Black – days became months, months became years, and there was no sign of Pitch.

Not before the war, not during, and not after.

The Guardians held the hope that he was dead, but it was a fool's notion. They knew that you could not kill fear, so when it came down to it Pitch was out there somewhere – hiding, or planning something.

Jack took it upon himself to look for him. The others had given up, there was simply too much on their hands to expend time searching, but Jack was free to do as he wished. Besides, he was the Guardian of fun.

There was only so much fun to be had in the wake of war.

So Jack immersed himself in the realm of the magical folk – which is a dangerous thing to do if you don't know what the hell you're doing. If you piss of the wrong creature you could easily find yourself cursed, in debt with no way out, or simply dead and eaten.

Much to Jack's luck though, he had quite a bit of experience with magical folk. Other than a miss-hap with a spider goddess, he found that he got along quiet well with those he came across, and they mostly tolerated him – to be fair, Jack knew he could be rather annoying, and over the years he'd tried to tone it down a bit when in the presence of powerful and potentially dangerous beings.

He'd travelled across the world, and had only thought about the Carnivale, when a rumour reached his ears.

About a decade after the Carnivale of Insaniam came to light, the rumour started spreading.

'_They say that the Manager is a monster, and wherever he walks, nightmares follow in his wake.'_

Definitely not subtle, was what Jack had first thought. Pitch disappears for nearly a century, and comes back with this? The rumour is what had Jack chasing after the Carnivale, but as time passed and the group remained just beyond his reach, the Ice Spirit found himself thinking… _'What am I going to do? Why am I going through all of this trouble? It's just Pitch. The world would be better off without him… wouldn't it?'_

Jack didn't know the answer. He knew that fear – as much as it could hinder things, it could also save lives.

Maybe… he was doing this because he knew what being alone was like. And what he needed… was closure, maybe.

A flutter at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Around him the word was in a constant, steady motion as the carnival folk continued setting up, and no attention was on him. He considered himself lucky at that moment – all of his attention was completely focused on the butterfly fluttering above him.

Black, with a rainbow sheen that covered its wings when the light hit it just right. It was small, barely bigger than his pinkie finger.

That was wrong. There had been no butterflies since the war began – at least, none this close to a hazard zone.

_This can't be right. _

It was a _real_ butterfly. Not a manifestation of someone's magic or a fae.

_What the hell…?_

He followed it.

Through the sea of tents and fae folk, Jack made sure to keep the butterfly within his sights. He had a feeling, deep within his belly – this butterfly was an answer. _But to what?_

Then it disappeared.

Jack froze, a scowl creasing his features. He'd made sure not to blink, so how the hell could it have disappeared so suddenly?

He'd stopped outside a brightly coloured tent – and this one seemed different to the others. It was larger for one thing, and there was something daunting about the way its shadow encompassed Jack… Almost like it was challenging him.

Well, he never had been one to back down from a challenge.

Staff held firmly in his left hand, he used it to slowly push open the flap. He couldn't see anything inside, so he cautiously shifted his body through the small opening.

It was as if the atmosphere suddenly changed. An impossible heat swept through Jack's body, and with it came the twisted remnants of a nightmare. His body grew still, and he found it difficult to breathe at the surge of terror that spread through his mind.

_It's too hot_.

"Do come in, please. You're letting the cold air in."

His body gave a small jolt as his attention was torn from the vague memory. He was fine; the temperature was warm, but not hot. He was awake -

-and there was an unfamiliar man standing before him, with the black butterfly fluttering around his fingers. He had appeared out of nowhere.

Jack's hand tightened on his staff, straining to keep the surprise he felt from showing in his face and body language. "Who are you?"

The man's eyes were focused on the butterfly, as if he did not care for the spirit's presence at all. "Jack Frost I presume? It's rather rude to barge into someone's abode unannounced, I hope you realise that."

"What's it to you?" Jack inwardly cursed himself for allowing such hostility to colour his words. He couldn't see much in the dim light, and though the man didn't look offended – didn't even look at him – the atmosphere grew just a little heavier. Just because the man looked human and was dressed in human clothing – although rather sloppily - didn't mean anything. There was no way of telling what he was – and on the off chance that Jack didn't end up as someone's dinner, it would be better if he held his tongue in this situation.

Finally, the man looked at Jack, and when glowing green eyes met his own, the spirit swallowed drily.

_Definitely not human._

"Well, this is my Carnivale. Usually when a new spirit comes to us they act more polite, yet here you are, barging into my tent as if you own the place." The man smiled, even white teeth gleaming in the dull lantern light.

Jack didn't back down. "You're… you're the boss?"

The butterfly had settled on the man's sleeve, and his arm came to rest by his side. He wore a charming smile. "I am the Manager of this establishment, yes."

Disappointment hit Jack in the space of a second as he registered the Manager's words. _So... all along it wasn't Pitch? All this was for nothing?_

"You are looking for something, are you not?"

The spirit stared at the Manager, wide-eyed. "How did -"

"You're intentions were made clear the moment you started following this little guy here," he raised his arm to indicate the butterfly. "My butterflies are a sort of guide and they usually appear to those who seek something or have questions, and they bring them to me. So I'll ask you this, little one: what do you want?"

"I…" Jack swallowed and started again. "I'm looking for someone. And I thought he might be here, but… I don't think he is. I'm sorry for barging in; I'll just… go now."

The Guardian made to leave the tent, but he paused at what the manager said next. "The person you seek is close, Jack Frost. Stick around and maybe you'll find him."

Jack felt a surge of excitement. _Finally! But if he's close, does that mean he's a part of the Carnivale? And how…_

Jack turned to stare at the Manager. "How do you know my name?"

"I know the name of everyone who comes to see the circus." The Manager grinned. "Though you are pretty well known, Jack Frost. You and your comrades are known to be rather dangerous adversaries."

"Adversaries…?" _Are we really thought of like that?_

"Mmhmm. Your reputation precedes you – the Guardians of human children who would do anything to preserve their innocence. The war… must have been very hard for you all to deal with."

Jack frowned. "It doesn't matter anymore. The war's over. It's been over for a long time."

The rumbling laugh from the manager was laced with mirth. "The war amongst the humans, yes. But surely you've noticed the trouble being stirred up amongst our kind?"

_Trouble…?_ "I don't care. I just want to find the person I'm looking for."

"Little Jack, how naïve you are. If you continue on the path your currently on, you will most definitely come to care. I meant what I said before; stick around. You will find your wayward Nightmare King."

He heard the title, and felt a spike of fear. Who the hell was this guy? What did he mean by that 'if you continue on the path you're currently on' spiel?

But, no matter. The best thing to do now would be to retreat, Jack reasoned. Maybe come back for more answers during show-time or something. He had no reason to trust the Manager's words, but the Guardian realised that this was the closest he'd ever get to finding out where Pitch is. Sticking around for a few days would do no harm.

He gave the Manager a tentative grin. "Ok then. I guess I'll stick around."

The Manager gave a mocking bow, "I hope you enjoy our hospitality, Jack Frost."

**-oOo-**

When the spirit left, quickly, as if he were being chased, the Manager stretched languidly and cracked his neck. The sharp sound was disturbingly loud in the wide, empty space of the tent, and he grimaced to himself.

"You just had to tell him to stick around, didn't you?"

The grimace was replaced by a grin. "Well, the boy's been chasing us for the better part of two decades. I thought it was time to grant him a little lenience; after all, it's not often I see so much determination in one so young."

"He's hardly what one would call young," the dark scoff came from the shadows.

"Well you're all children in my eyes. Once you've been around as long as I have, you'll think so too."

"You're older than me by, what, a few centuries? It matters not." There was a sigh. "Dragging him into this… I hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm doing what needs to be done. The question is, do you know what you're doing?"

Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Do not patronise me. I am not a fool; this is just another step in atoning for my sins."

"So selfish." The Manager purred. "But that is not the case. Believe me Kozzy, if it were that simple, things would have been over as soon as they'd begun."

"For the last time, do not call me by that name. That man is long dead. It would be best to forget about him."

"Mmm I don't think so!" The Manager made his way to the entrance flap. He pushed it open with a gloved hand, then paused. "There's something special about that boy. Unique, you might say." Glowing green eyes stared intently into the shadows. "If we're not careful, that uniqueness may be used against us."

"Just shut up – you have a show to run, so leave me alone already."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." He left the tent with an absent wave.

In the darkness, Pitch Black gave a weary sigh. "It's time, then…"

_Jack Frost… you should proceed with caution._

* * *

Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon!

For updates and artwork, check out my tumblr (Link on my profile).

Credit to the lovely Reena for editing!


	2. Pitch

**_AN: _**I'd like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story so far! I'm glad it has been so well recieved~

_Chapter Song:_ Sancta Terra, by Epica

**No God Beyond these Clouds**

2

Pitch

It was easier to breathe outside of the tent. As the cold air filled his lungs, it chased away some of the remnants of fear and allowed Jack to think rationally.

He was staying. Even if that creepy-ass Manager hadn't given him permission, he would have stayed. Even if no-one was going to help him look. This feeling that he had… he knew that Pitch was here

He turned in a random direction and started walking, his mind focused on the problem at hand. There was nothing more he could do at the moment other than get the layout of the encampment, maybe chat with a few of the fae folk and see if they knew anything. Hell, he might even make a few friends!

By the moon, nowadays he only had his fellow Guardians to call friends, and he didn't get to see them nearly as often as he'd like.

But so far… The Carnivale of Insaniam seemed like a rather interesting place. He'd never seen so many different types of spirits in the one place before, with all of them actually getting along. He was heading into a more populated area of the encampment now, and the sound of different voices rose and fell. A group of children ran past him, laughing and shrieking with joy, and Jack realised that they were a mix of elf children - very rare, especially after the war -, a few animal spirits, and even some humans. There was an itch inside Jack to join in with the fun, but he held himself back. It pained him though - he hadn't had the chance to let loose in decades.

He followed the children at a sedate pace with his staff slung over his shoulder. From what he could tell, they were heading towards a large opening amongst the tents - one he'd spotted from one of the buildings. It looked like a food court of some sorts, and the delicious smell that wafted from its direction affirmed it. The area was large and full of tables, which numerous folk were stationed at, chatting and eating. There were several stalls set up around the premises, giving away different assortments of food. He still couldn't get over the fact that not a single person looked his way when he stepped out into the open. Well, granted, he got a few looks, but he attested that to the fact that everyone here probably knew each other, and a new face was nothing to be concerned over.

As long as he did nothing to draw attention to himself, he was sure he'd be fine.

Unfortunately though, trouble always seemed to creep up on him when he was trying to avoid it. Jack was so busy taking in his surroundings that he didn't pay attention to where his feet were taking him, and he ending up walking straight into a hard body. The impact sent him reeling back a few steps, and he cursed and rubbed his sore nose.

Warily, he looked up - the person he'd walked into was actually rather tall.

Well, very tall. Almost as tall as Pitch, from what he remembered, and had an unearthly beauty.

And he looked very angry.

"Watch where you're going, runt," He spat. Jack identified him as a dark elf - the pointed ears and dark blue skin gave it away - and the glowering crimson eyes that promised pain confirmed it. His hair was as white as his own, contrasting with his dark skin, and it was long, pulled into a low braid. Jack had never run into a dark elf before, and he was rather thankful for that - they were known to be rather temperamental and vicious warriors when provoked, and would rather kill you than spare your life. That knowledge did nothing for him at that point though.

The dark elf loomed above him menacingly, his hand resting on the pommel of a sword strapped to his side. Jack tensed up and shifted his feet a little. He tightened his grip on his staff and forced an apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm sorry," He said as sincerely as he could manage. "I didn't see you."

The dark elf's lips pulled up into a snarl, ready to bark something, but he was cut off by a stern, feminine voice came that from behind him.

"Stop it Deyja. Leave the new guy alone - he doesn't need to be exposed to your foul attitude."

A woman came up behind the dark elf, scowling threateningly. Jack kept his mouth shut, observing with curious eyes. It was practically unheard of to see a high elf and a dark elf together and not trying to kill each other. The female elf looked strange… Jack tried to find a word to fit her, and all that came to mind was battle-hardened. Blonde dreadlocks were pulled back from her scared face and piercing gold eyes were glaring. She stood a few inches taller than the dark elf, which was certainly something, and put a firm grip on his shoulder.

The dark elf - Deyja, he'd been called - directed his glare at the high elf. "Already going to take another one under your wing, Mira? Proving how much of a do-gooder you are to the Manager? Sucking up isn't a very good trait you know."

Mira returned his sneer. "Neither is being an arrogant ass. Go harass someone else, Deyja."

The dark elf let out a growl, before shrugging off Mira's hand and pushing past Jack, causing the frost spirit to stumble. Jack stared at Deyja's broad back as he disappeared amongst the tents, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out. He turned back to the high elf and sent her a bright grin. "Thanks for that. I didn't want to end up fighting someone on my first day here."

The elf returned his smile, and Jack instantly felt at ease. She had a calming aura about her, one that reminded him a lot of Tooth - when she wasn't constantly buzzing around that was. Mira held out an elegant, slender hand and Jack took it with enthusiasm.

"Please, don't let Deyja bother you," She said. "He's made it his life goal to be as rude as he can to everyone he meets. My name is Mira. You must be Jack Frost."

Her grip was strong - very strong, and Jack knew instinctively that if she applied just the slightest bit of pressure she'd probably break his hand. He didn't let it bother him though, and then shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. He was slightly confused - for one, how did she know his name? He'd been here for, what, all of about an hour and a half at most?

He voiced his curiosity, and Mira grinned and waved him over to one of the free benches. He hesitantly took a seat across from her and rested his staff across his lap. Mira called out to one of the nearby stalls, and a few moments later a girl came over with two bowls of what looked like soup. Mira accepted hers with cheerful thanks, and Jack took the bowl with cautious hands. It was initially hot to touch, but he quickly sent a burst of ice over the ceramic. He didn't really need to eat, but food always seemed to raise his spirits, and the soup smelled divine.

He took the spoon Mira held out to him and stirred it, keeping a careful eye on the elf.

Mira was also watching him. She placed her elbows on the table and cradled her cheeks, the soup untouched, and all attention focused on Jack.

Finally, she started speaking. "All of the staff are notified the moment a being with power-levels above average steps foot on Carnivale perimeters. You probably thought you managed to slip through unnoticed, but you actually had several pairs of eyes on you, watching your every move and ready to step in should your intentions be to attack. We do not take intruders lightly, and we would have eliminated you before you were even aware of our presence."

Jack swallowed uneasily. He knew he couldn't die easily - if need be he could put up a hell of a fight and do a lot of damage, but he had a feeling that Mira would be a difficult opponent – and who knew who else was a part of the carnival? There could even be a god or two amongst them...

She stared at him for a few more moments before continuing.

"When you encountered the Manager, you were identified and your details were spread out amongst us. You saw these guys, right?" She pointed above his head, and Jack saw one of those little black butterfly's fluttering above his head. "I don't know what the Manager told you about the butterflies, but they serve as guides and messengers. I'm not going to go into details because you wouldn't understand even the basics of the magic working behind them, so long story short, your info was spread around to us along with the fact that you are not a threat to the Carnivale or us."

"But how did you even get that info?" Jack asked incredulously.

The look she gave him said that he was an idiot. "You're Jack Frost. You're the most powerful winter spirit to exist, not to mention one of the Guardians of humanity."

"Children." Jack corrected.

"Same difference. The point is, amongst our kind, you are very well known, and also generally well regarded. Now I have a question for _you_ Jack. Why are you here?"

"Weren't you informed by the butterflies of that as well?" Jack asked in curiosity.

She gave a devious grin, "We were, but the info relayed was pretty sparse. I want details. We know you're searching for something but we don't know what."

The frost spirit gathered he had nothing to lose. He stirred his untouched soup, and said, "I'm looking for Pitch Black."

Her demeanour changed from curious and welcoming to deadly in less than a second. The aura surrounding her grew dark and she leaned in close to Jack, her face blank. Jack froze at the sudden change, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Listen here Frost, if you're going to cause trouble then you can bloody well guarantee that everyone here would do everything in their power to destroy you, and they'd do it without a second thought. The Carnivale is a sanctuary for us outcasts, and we help those who are in need – whether it be for relief, aid, or protection. I know you Guardians have a bone to pick with Pitch Black, but your feud is not welcome here, is that understood?"

For a moment Jack couldn't speak. The way she was reacting… "I'm not here to pick a fight! I'm not here on behalf of the other Guardian's either." He took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "I'm only here to talk to him. I've been searching for him for years, and now that I know he's here I'm not just going to _leave_. Not now that I'm so damn close. You have to believe me, please."

She eyed him, her threatening aura not diminishing in the slightest. Jack held her stare, not willing to back down, and finally Mira let out a sigh. She leaned back and brought the still hot bowl of soup to her lips and started gulping it down. Jack could only watch in a somewhat disgusted fascination as she downed all of the bowl's contents and placed it back down on the table with a satisfied burp. She then leaned in once again, and fixed Jack with a critical stare.

"You're looking for Pitch Black, yeah? Well I'll tell you this: he's here alright – whether he wants to see you though is another matter entirely. You're welcome to stick around here for as long as you like, but the deal is you have to help out."

_Help out?_ "In what way?"

"Oh you know, help with the setup, and do chores around here, that sort of stuff. Report to the main tent every morning while you're here and speak to Silenus – he'll give you something to keep you busy. That sound alright to you?"

Jack could only nod in agreement. Mira stood up and brushed off her clothes, before turning to walk away. She pause in her step however, and turned back to Jack. "One more thing, Frost. If you want to survive long enough to speak to Pitch, stay away from Deyja, yeah? He's not fond of those that were once human."

With that she turned and walked away, he long dreads and coat flowing behind her. Jack felt kind of numb and remained seated at the table, still clutching the now cold bowl of soup. Gently, he placed it on the table and stared at his hands, wondering what to do.

He could do what Mira said and go to the main tent, see what that Silenus guy had for him to do. She was right about Pitch – he doubted he'd talk to Jack until he was ready, if ever.

_I'll give it some time then,_ he decided. _A week. If he doesn't show himself by then, then I'll give him no choice. I'll hunt him down._

Though he still had no idea what he was going to ask Pitch. First off… Why was he here? Why didn't he take advantage of the war? Why remain hidden for all this time?

With a sigh, the spirit stood up and swung his staff over his shoulder. He had a vague idea of where the main tent was and decided to head towards it.

He set off; unaware of the golden eyes watching him with avid curiosity.

**-o-O-o-**

After ten or so minutes feeling absolutely lost, Jack found what he thought – or at least hoped – was the main tent. It was enormous – the biggest of all the tents he'd seen so far, and looked to be able to hold at least a thousand spectators, if not more. The outside was covered in multi-coloured material, and he had to circle around it a bit before he found the main entrance. It was crowded with people who were mulling about, doing some activity or another. There was a group of satyrs nearby where Jack was standing, and hesitantly, Jack wondered over to them, a question burning on his tongue.

"Excuse me," Jack called out, catching their attention. "Um, can you tell me where Silenus is?"

One of them looked over, an eyebrow arched in question. His eyes narrowed and gave Jack an obvious once-over, before grinning and pointing in the direction of the back of the tent.

Jack flushed and blamed it on the heat of the tent. He threw out a quick thanks and moved in the direction the satyr pointed.

He found a short, fat man standing on crate, barking out orders to a small group of sprites. Guessing that was Silenus, he walked towards him, and the closer he got, the stronger the scent of alcohol became.

_Is he drunk…?_ Jack wondered. He didn't look it. Hell, even as the frost spirit watched, the old man paused in his talking and pulled a flask from his coat. He'd finished taking a swig just as Jack appeared in front of him.

The man eyed him for a moment and smiled broadly. "Jack Frost I assume?"

The Guardian gave a cheerful grin, hoping to make a good first impression. "At your service, Sir! You're Silenus right? I was told to come to you for something to keep me busy."

The man laughed. "I am Silenus. Did the Manager send you here? He always sends me newbies because I'm the best at whipping them in to shape! If you're planning on staying here then you have to pull your own weight and help out us old folks!"

One of the sprites buzzed around Jacks head and landed on his shoulder, chattering in its native language and Jack smiled at it in greeting. The others buzzed just out of reach, hesitant to get any closer to him.

Silenus observed closely, and then seemed to come to a decision. "Right then Jack! First order of business: if you're going to stay here for any long amount of time then you need to know the layout of the camp. Whenever we change location the layout is always different, but some key places are the same, and so…" he hopped down off the crate. "You're going to string up these lanterns all over the encampment, and the sprites will light them for you with their fae light. All the tents have fixtures for them, so it's a rather easy task for a newcomer, but it will take a while – are you up for it?"

_Sounds simple._ "Sure, I'll do it."

"Great – there are more lanterns closer to the back so make sure to use them when you run out."

**-o-O-o-**

The sprites had gotten over their shyness and spent the next couple of hours darting around Jack and lighting the lanterns, chattering all the way. Jack actually enjoyed the task – it was fun, easy, and allowed him time to think, and the sprites were good company – even if he couldn't understand what they said.

He got the task done without any difficulty, using the wind to float around and reach the fixtures for the lanterns. He ran into a few fae folk, who greeted him courteously, and was relieved when he didn't run into Deyja or Mira – Deyja because he was an ass and Mira because even though she seemed cool, she was kind of creepy. He'd consider himself lucky if he didn't run into them anytime in the near future.

Once the task was done, Silenus said he could have the rest of the day off – "Since you're a newbie and all that," he said – to wander around and get to know a few of the other staff. Strangely, the old man had given Jack the same warning that Mira had – stay out of Deyja's way, with no further explanation. Besides, it wasn't as if Jack was actively going to go _looking _for him. It'd be just like looking for trouble, and he'd vowed to himself that he wouldn't do that.

There was too much at stake.

With his task done, the sprites had buzzed off to complete another job, but one decided to stick by Jack. He guessed it was the same one who had greeted him in the beginning, and he made no protest to its presence. Most of the time it sat in the folds of his hood, playing with the fur and making vague little sounds and exclamations.

For a while, Jack just walked through the tens and observed the activity around him. Silenus said that the Carnivale would be open to the public come dusk, and would keep running for however long the Manager decided they stayed there. Jack didn't know how many people still lived in LA, but he assumed it was a lot, considering it was one of the only large cities that hadn't been completely destroyed in the decade war.

Truthfully, he couldn't wait. He knew in his heart that this would be fun, and since he hadn't let loose in years, he hoped that maybe, in his time spent here, he can regain some semblance of his former life.

_I just wish the others could be here with me._

But that was impossible – they were each busy with their own duties, and Jack barely got any time to see them, between their busy activities and Jack's travelling the world in search of Pitch.

_Maybe… when this is all over I'll go see them… Spend some time with them…_

**-o-O-o-**

Jack had discovered that all the tents were actually quite sturdy – probably reinforced by magic, he theorised, and was delighted that they made rather good perches. He spent the rest of the day lounging around on top of the tallest tent – which just so happened to be the main tent. He dozed for a bit, with the sprite curled up in the fur of his coat, and dreamed.

It was of flashes of colour, mostly. A mix of blue, red and gold, and with it, the familiar fear that had been plaguing him since the war began.

Then, strangely, there was a moment of clarity.

A single heartbeat. An unbearable heat.

He was standing on a field of white that encompassed everything. The moon hung full in the sky, smiling down at him, and anger swelled inside of him.

_Tear it down._

"Jack."

He turned, and saw Pitch.

"Jack."

Anger warred with confusion. He was surrounded by a ruined city.

"What have you done, Jack?"

Pitch's black-nailed hand was reaching towards him, and Jack's mouth opened to protest.

_Don't touch me._

"_Jack."_

And then he was staring at himself – as if he was staring into a mirror.

Covered in ice, blue-tinted lips pulled into a cruel smile, and blue iris' set upon black sclera. It raised a clawed hand, dripping with blood that was almost black.

Jack raised his hand as well, and just before they touched, everything shattered in an explosion of colour and sound.

The frost spirit woke up with a scream caught in his throat, only to find himself unable to move, and familiar golden eyes staring down at him.

"Pitch," Jack choked out.

The Nightmare King stood, towering above Jack, his dark grey lips pressed into a thin line. There were several shadows pinning Jack's limbs, and nearly all of the canvas around him was covered in a thick layer of ice.

"W-what are you doing?" Jack stuttered out. Surprise and fear warred in his head; Pitch was standing before him, finally, and he had Jack completely pinned.

Jack panicked. More ice formed, and the Guardian tried groping for his staff but he quickly realised it wasn't where he'd left it.

A tendril of darkness quickly pinned his hand by his side.

_This can't be happening!_

"You need to calm down," Pitch hissed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then let me go!" Jack struggled even more, and managed to free one of his arms, only to find that he was falling through shadow.

Pitch's voice echoed through the black, "If you continue to panic you're going to bring down the entire tent. You need to _control_ yourself Jack. Now…"

He was on solid ground, now in a familiar dimly lit tent, standing in front of Pitch who had his hand on Jack's shoulders.

Golden eyes held Jack's own, and he felt hypnotized. "_Calm down."_

**_AN:_**_ You know the deal guys!_

_If you wanna see art and stuff for it visit my tumblr - link is in my profile~_


End file.
